


Parson Family Dinner

by vicewithavice



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alexei taking it all in stride really, Family Dinner, M/M, The Parson's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9193679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vicewithavice/pseuds/vicewithavice
Summary: “What?” Kent grumbles, staring straight ahead at the garage door that leads into the house. If he can pick an argument with Alexei, he’ll buy himself a few more minutes before having to go inside.“Never see you so nervous. You’re cute.”“I’m not nervous.” Kent counters far too fast to be convincing. Alexei puts his hand on Kent’s knee and thankfully doesn’t say anything blatantly untrue like “it’ll be fine.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alcatraz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcatraz/gifts).



Kent pulls into the driveway slower than necessary, taking his sweet time in parking next to the empty spot that should hold his mom’s Lexus, her 40th birthday present, under the guise of making sure he leaves her enough room. When he can’t adjust the wheels any longer, he makes a long display of turning the car off, making sure the gear stick is firmly in neutral and the heat and radio are distinctly off before he has no choice but to take the keys out of the ignition.

 

He can feel Alexei grinning at him the whole time.

 

“What?” Kent grumbles, staring straight ahead at the garage door that leads into the house. If he can pick an argument with Alexei, he’ll buy himself a few more minutes before having to go inside. 

 

“Never see you so nervous. You’re cute.”

 

“I’m not nervous.” Kent counters far too fast to be convincing. Alexei puts his hand on Kent’s knee and thankfully doesn’t say anything blatantly untrue like “it’ll be fine.” 

 

“Come.” Alexei pushes himself out of the car and Kent reluctantly follows his lead. 

 

He finds the house key on his ring but the door is already unlocked. Alexei gives him a reassuring smile before nodding at him to go in. 

 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Kent says before stepping over the threshold. 

 

The house was Kent’s first purchase with his signing bonus. It’s not as lavish as he thinks his mom deserves, but she didn’t want to be “some New Rochelle housewife.” Instead, he bought her a new but not too big house only twenty minutes from the duplex she rented as she raised her two kids. She refused to let him buy new furniture, though, so the place is filled with chipped tables and stained couches. Kent once tried to have a new sectional delivered and it ended with him personally calling the delivery men to apologize for what his mother said to them and offering the couch to one of them for their trouble. 

 

They slip their shoes off at the door and Kent’s barely righted himself before his vision is overtaken by a mess of blonde hair and he’s knocked back into the wall. 

 

“Hey lil’ bro. Missed ya.” 

 

Kent spits out a mouthful of her hair while she claps him hard on the shoulder. Victoria’s two years younger than him, but exactly one inch taller, and ever since she hit her growth spurt she’s been sure to remind him of this at every available opportunity. 

 

She turns her attention to Alexei, her eyes tracking all the way up to the top of his head. “Ho-ly shit. You got a brother?”

 

Alexei laughs and holds out his hand to shake. “No brother. Two sisters.”

 

“I ain’t picky.”

 

“Must run in family.”

 

“Anyways,” Kent says loudly, already disliking where the conversation is going. He trudges down the hallway towards the living room, listening in on their gossiping. It’s not that he thinks that they wouldn’t get along; he’s worried they’ll get on too well and Vic will totally destroy Kent’s cred.

 

As he passes the kitchen, a pot boiling on the stove catches his attention. He investigates to see rice cooking, and the oven is on. The oven is on and there’s something inside of it, cooking and wafting a suspiciously good scent.    

 

“Why are you cooking?” Kent asks, horrified. “What happened to the money I gave you to hire a caterer?”

 

“Mom used it for cooking lessons.” Victoria wanders in behind Alexei and pours herself a glass of water. “She wanted to do something nice for your boyfriend.”

 

“Saving Alexei from mom’s cooking is  _ something nice _ \- wait. Cooking lessons?”

 

Vic nods morosely and hauls herself up so she’s sitting on top of the counter. “Yeah. And you know why she left the house?  _ To get placemats _ .”

 

Kent reaches out to grip Alexei’s forearm in surprise. “Is she dying?”

 

“Why so big shock?” Alexei asks, taking the opportunity to wrap his arm over Kent’s shoulders. 

 

“I don’t think she knows what placemats are.” 

 

“Like, her idea of a fancy meal is reheating leftover pizza in the oven instead of the microwave,” Vic tells Alexei. 

 

“One time she tried to bake us a cake for Easter-”

 

“ _ One _ time.”

 

“-and she forgot the flour.”

 

Kent and Vic share stories of their mom for Alexei, all the times she tried and failed to do something typically domestic. When Kent was living in Quebec, Vic would chronicle her attempt at DIY-ing the house, sending him photos of botched repair jobs.  Not that Kent ever blamed her; she had enough on her plate raising two children on her own, working as many jobs as she had to to. Cooking and housework was secondary to providing food and a place to stay, and then the cost of Kent’s hockey gear on top of that- he’s always been grateful for what she provided. 

 

“She do all this to impress me?” Alexei asks. 

 

Kent doesn’t mention it’s probably because he’s never brought anyone home before, and thankfully Vic keeps her trap shut about that, too. She’s brought plenty of people to visit, or that’s what his mom would have him believe. One of her favourite topics is to ask why Kent hasn’t found someone to settle down with, or, when she can tell Kent’s hungover, when she can expect grandkids.  

 

It’s usually meant as a joke, but lately she seems more serious about it. Kent likes to remind that at 45, she’s still too irresponsible to be a grandma. 

 

On cue, they hear the garage door open and close. Kent braces himself for the inevitable wall of noise that is his mother. Instead, a stranger with his mother’s face walks in, carrying bags from someplace that isn’t Target and gracefully greeting Alexei. 

 

Both Kent and Vic watch in amazement and she hugs him, her head coming up to his collar bone. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

 

Which is a big fucking lie. Kent has been tactically avoiding speaking to his mother about Alexei- he’s not exactly gossiping to her about his roadie hookups, which is what they were until a handful of months ago. Since then, he’s kept it vague, suddenly very busy whenever his mom brings up his love life. 

 

“And Kent- still wearing those hats, are ya?” She presses a kiss onto his cheek and flicks the hat off his head, which Kent ungracefully shoves back on. “I see the combs I sent you got lost in the mail.”

 

“Yeah. Well. I see the, uh -” Kent’s weak attempt at a comeback catches in his throat when he sees his mother pull out several bundles of herbs from one of the bags. “What the hell are those?”

 

“What the hell do they- ass off the counter, Vic-  look like? They’re herbs. I needed rosemary for the duck-”

 

“-you got a  _ duck _ ?” 

 

“-and they’ve got so many kinds. I didn’t want to stand there like an idiot so I just bought them all. One of them has to be rosemary, right? Alexei, come give me a hand with these.”

 

Alexei dutifully goes to her side while Kent and Vic have a telepathic conversation about their mother’s sudden and jarring nosedive into house making. 

 

Kent wants to steal Alexei away up to his bedroom, which surprises him because it’s his collection of childhood memorabilia he wants to show off and not anything more lascivious. However, out of the four of them in the kitchen, Alexei’s the only one he trusts to make anything relatively edible, and so he’s more inclined to keep him here, where he’s needed. Alexei’s always been a good cook, and as he helps Kent’s mom stir up a gravy he talks about helping his baboushka in the kitchen. 

 

Digging through his memories, Kent has no similar stories to share. He never stood on a stool and helped his mother knead dough, though he did once spent a few minutes kneeling on a chair, batting at a mouse under the fridge with an old broom while his mother and sister cowered on top of the table. He tells Alexei this, doing his best impression of their screeches, and his mother counters with the tale of Kent finding her makeup and making a mess over himself and his sister. 

 

Dinner finishes without the smoke alarm sounding, and they’re still trading stories as Kent sets the table with a knife, spoon,  _ and  _ fork like they’re hosting the Queen. There’s even wine glasses, real ones not made of plastic, and a nice bottle of red that Kent examines with trepidation. 

 

“Where’s the real booze?” He calls out over his shoulder. 

 

“We don’t have to drink hard liquor to enjoy ourselves,” his mother replies with a sniff. Which is true, Kent does genuinely enjoy the company of his family, but it’s always better when they’re all drunk and yelling at the TV. Then again, Tater doesn’t need to see that.

 

Dinner is served around the table that Kent’s never eaten at in this house. He’s half expecting his mother to announce a prayer before they eat. Instead, they get her attempt at amicable small talk. 

 

“So,” she says. “How long have you been together?”

 

“Six months,” Kent replies at the same time Alexei says “two years.”

 

There’s a silence followed by Victoria snorting into her potatoes. “Obviously you guys need to decide whether your time as fuck buddies counts as dating.” 

 

Alexei laughs while Kent kicks her under the table. 

 

“Victoria. Watch your language at the table.”

 

Kent and Vic still simultaneously, sharing a confused look. Not only does she never care about swearing, she’s usually the one cussing up a storm, whether at the table (on the rare occasion that they do eat around the table) or as Kent’s date to a charity gala. Kent sets his cutlery down and watches his mother carefully.

 

“Do you have, like, a brain tumor? Are you dying? You’re acting like… like Donna Reed or some shit.”

 

“Who the fuck is Donna Reed?” Victoria asks, and Alexei shrugs in response. 

 

“Excuse you,” his mother snaps. “I’m no 1950’s housetart. Sometimes a mother just wants to cook a nice meal for her only son and his new boyfriend. Or his old fuck buddy.”

 

That actually shocks a laugh out of Kent until he remembers to be horrified that his mother has alluded to his sex life. 

 

“You- you and Victoria- you’re both successful enough that you can have others cook for you, take after the things I never taught you to do for yourselves.” She takes a long swig of her wine while Kent and Vic share sad glances.  “I just wanted to do something special for you. And not embarrass you in front of Alexei too much. You don’t say much about him but I know how much you like him. You don’t need me scaring him off.”

 

The Parsons busy themselves with drinking, open and emotional conversations never came easy to them, but Alexei looks between them fondly, setting his hand on Kent’s knee.

 

“No need to impress me, Mrs. Parson, already stuck with your son.” He presses a kiss to Kent’s head like a contract. “Besides, am Russian. A meal without hard liquor just a snack.”

 

Kent’s mom looks at him critically, gauging his honesty. “Oh thank fuck. Let’s get off these godawful chairs. I can feel my back seizing tighter than a virgin’s knees.”

 

“Oh my god,” Kent and Victoria both groan, but the sound is drowned out by their mother loudly scraping the chair backwards as she stands, plate in hand. 

 

“Kent, get the tequila. Let’s have a real Parson family dinner.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is so late. Wow. So late. But it is done. It's not a Christmas present anymore, so happy new year!


End file.
